Stars
by skyperson9
Summary: Sherlock visiting Molly's flat is not new. But this particular visit is ripping her apart. A sherlolly story.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello! This is kinda AU of season 3, where Molly is not engaged to Tom. First attempt at angst, hope you like it. :)

Molly watched the foamy water swirl around her. She could see those thousands of rainbows in each perfectly spherical bubbles. The hot water felt great on her sore muscles. The smell of the bath was comforting and she let her eyes close, as she rested her head on the edge of the tub.

She had had to work double time that day. Her colleague Edward was supposed to take the shift after hers, but his wife had gone into labor. She had told him to not worry and had offered to take his shift. He had hugged her and then rushed out to meet his child.

Child. Children. The concept of a baby seemed like a forbidden topic to her mind. It was like a slippery thought. Ever elusive.

Molly sighed as her mind went down that particular depressive lane. She had been there a hundred times. Thanks to her mother who never missed an opportunity to point out that her biological clock was ticking, and that it wouldn't tick forever.

It really wasn't Molly's fault. She tried. She really really tried. She went on dates every other week, but none of the men could hold her attention for more than a few minutes. Sometimes, when she was changing back into pajamas after coming back from a date, she couldn't even remember the guy's face, let alone his name.

Sigh.

She was brought back to reality, when she heard her front door open. A door which she had locked behind her.

A normal sane person would rush out of the bath (after putting on the robe, obviously), find the nearest weapon and challenge the intruder.

But all Molly did was continue to close her eyes and enjoy her bath and her less enjoyable thoughts. Because she knew that only one person could get through the new high tech lock on her door and that must be the person who had installed it.

After about half an hour when the water began to get cold, she pulled out the plug and got out of the tub. It was a good thing that she had brought her clothes with her.

She dressed in her awfully cheery yellow T-shirt and matching pajama pants. She towel dried her hair as she glanced at the tired looking, thirty something in the mirror. When she was done, she opened the door to meet the reason for her failed dates.

Sherlock Holmes.

He looked like he always did. Beautiful. He had let his curls grow a bit longer. He was wearing a white dress shirt and black pants. His coat and scarf was neatly hanging on the coat hanger. He was sitting on her sofa, watching some soap and yelling at the TV. He had helped himself to some of the cookies that she had left on the coffee table.

Toby, her cat, was purring at his feet begging for his attention.

Molly tried her best to not see how much she resembled her cat. She went into the kitchen to make some tea. He had already put the kettle on. She took two tea cups out and poured tea for both of them.

When she came back to her living her, the TV was switched off and Sherlock was watching her. It was his 'I am deducing you right now' look. Initially it had made her nervous. During those first months when she had met him, she would be hardly able to formulate a thought but now she had gotten used to that.

She handed him his tea, noting that now Toby was sitting on Sherlock's lap who was now scratching his ears. Well, at least her cat succeeded in his attempts.

She settled on the settee opposite to him and curled up her legs. The room was engulfed in comfortable silence as they drank their tea.

Sherlock had taken to visiting her flat quiet often after his return from the dead. She had misinterpreted it as him wanting to be close her presence but when nothing changed between them, except that he wasn't cruel to her anymore, she had understood. She was the one who counted, as a friend and always as a friend. Nothing more nothing less. He would come to her flat when he was bored, needed a change of setting to think or needed her help in some experiment.

Right now it looked like there was a purpose for this visit. She didn't question him. He would talk in his own time.

"I need your help" he said all of a sudden, breaking the silence.

"With?" she asked hesitantly.

In the last couple of months since John's wedding he had started many a conversation like this and each request was more bizarre than the previous one and mostly bordered on illegal.

"Shopping" he said.

Molly allowed a smile to creep on her face.

"Sure. What are we shopping for?" she asked. She expected him to say grocery. When John used to live with him, he complained all the time about doing all the shopping. It was a running joke that Sherlock was terrified of the local Tesco.

"Just some clothes" he said nonchalantly.

That was odd. Sherlock's dressing sense was impeccable. Why would he want her help?

"Why?" she asked, her voice colored with confusion.

"It's for a date" he said, finally looking at her.

It was all Molly could do to freeze the smile on her face, as he kept on talking.

"You have been infatuated with me for so long. So it's only logical that you would know what looks good on me. I really need this date to work out."

"Is it for a case?" she asked, hating the hopeful sound in her tone.

Silence.

"Who?"

"Janine."

Ah. The beautiful bridesmaid. She was everything that Molly could never hope to be. They had looked pretty close during the wedding. But she had chalked it off as the best man and bridesmaid thing.

She expected her heart to break into a million pieces like the beaker that had slipped from her grasp in the lab. Her eyes to fill with the oh so familiar tears. But she was surprised to feel just resignation. Finally, here was her proof that Sherlock was interested in women but wasn't interested in her.

It was the final nail in the coffin.

All those dates failed because she could compare each of them to Sherlock. Naturally, it wasn't even a competition. Sherlock was the best. And her heart refused to let go of the hope that someday he would be hers. He had never rejected her. He seemed to just misinterpret her advances. But now the hope was extinguished. For good.

"Okay" was all she said.

"I'll text you the details" he said and proceeded to get up from the sofa.

Molly didn't though. He would close the door behind him.

She heard him put on his coat and scarf and the door open. He paused. He walked back to her and stood in front of her. He bent down and kissed her forehead before leaving.

It was then that the tears came.

She cried for what seemed to be like years. Until there was no water left in her body to shed. Toby sensed something was wrong and settled on her lap. He began to purr.

Finally, when she was blankly looking at the wall she dried her eyes.

She got up and washed her face. Hunting for her phone in her over sized handbag she finally found it.

Meena had once again tried to set up a date for her. She had sworn that Molly would like him instantly.

What was she going to lose?

She dialed the number.

"Hello, Tom?"

AN: The End? Let me know. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: OMG! Thank you for all the support! :) I've decided to continue the story. Yay! :D I'm really nervous right now. Hope you like this.**

Her phone broke into a cheerful birdsong, signaling the arrival of a message.

The intern who was supposed to be organizing the files, gave her a side eyed look which Molly was sure conveyed 'Seriously?' and then returned to texting on her phone, while hiding the phone under the files.

Molly removed her splatter guard and gloves after finishing the autopsy and reached for her phone that was charging.

6 pm. Baker's St.

-SH

Oh! Right. The shopping.

She refused to let her shoulder's slump. Crying won't help, she chanted to herself as she fiercely fought the tears that threatened to leak.

Taking a deep breath, she returned to the heap of paperwork that would probably drown her. Like so many other things.

Though she tried very hard to focus on the work at hand, her mind kept wandering. That morning she had contemplated not showing up for work. The urge to curl into a ball of misery and never get out of her bed had been overwhelming. But she wouldn't let herself give in. She dragged herself out of her lumpy bed and headed straight for the shower.

The shower had been a good idea. She couldn't tell the difference between the water and her tears.

When she came out, the usual silence in her flat seemed deafening and unbearable. She had switched on the TV and turned the volume up to its maximum. Toby who had been sleeping on the settee hissed at her.

Oh! No. She wasn't alone. She had Toby, her cat.

She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at that thought.

"Um….Excuse me?" the intern poked her head into Molly's office.

"Yes?" Molly asked, a bit disoriented.

"Can I leave? It's five thirty."

She glanced at her watch and cursed. She had zoned out for almost an hour and now she had to rush to Baker's St.

"Yes, you may" Molly said with a smile. But the intern was out of the door after hearing the 'Yes'.

She locked up the place after switching of all the lights and locking the place, to make sure that none of her patients could escape.

She smiled wryly at that.

/-/-/-/

Sherlock was surprisingly a good shop-mate.

She had been prepared for him to roll his eyes at all her choices. She wouldn't have expected anything less. After all she had an, to quote her colleagues, 'appalling' fashion sense.

But all Sherlock did was follow her through all the men's wear section silently, took the pile of 'maybe' clothes she placed in his arms without the slightest hint of sneer or a snort.

The place where they were shopping was extremely posh and it was something she had never heard about. So obviously, it was only for the elite and noble. Another reason to add in the overflowing file of 'Sherlock Holmes? In your dreams.'

Molly wasn't just browsing. She had something specific on her mind. It was a something that was right out of her fantasies.

She had thought of backing out of the shopping. But Sherlock needed her. Just like he always did. So, as a friend she had to help him. It was just the way she was. And she might as well help him properly.

Browsing through the racks and racks of some Italian designer, whose name she couldn't even pronounce, she finally found what she was looking for.

It was a color she had seen him wear only once. He never bothered to wear it again. But that once had given her many a sleepless nights.

It was black suit with a deep electric blue shirt.

When she had seen him wear it, her mind went entirely blank, more than usual blank, and her only thoughts had been 'delicious' and 'edible'. The color brought out the impossible color of his eyes and his neck and color bone ….God! Anyway this suit would sweep even a blind woman off her feet. Janine wouldn't stand a chance.

With a smile, she held out the bag to him.

Sherlock was looking at the staff who had introduced himself as Stephan, a well-groomed guy who also looked like a run way model if she was looking, assigned to them with a look of contempt.

She didn't get that. The fellow seemed to be extremely helpful and very nice to them.

She cleared her throat to get his attention.

He didn't even bother to look at the suit. He simply took it out of her hand and gave it to Stephan.

"We'll take that" he said.

"Ah! An excellent choice. Designed by the best from Italy" Stephan said with a bright smile to Molly.

She smiled in return.

"Yes, yes. Well, enough of that. We are running late" Sherlock said and dragged Molly towards the door.

Running late for what she had no idea.

"Aren't we paying? The clothes?" she asked in confusion as they exited the shop.

"Mycroft" he answered simply.

Molly laughed at the mental image of Mycroft delivering the clothes to Sherlock.

When he looked questioningly at her, she shook her head.

Sherlock used his other worldly power to hire a taxi, which appeared a second later even in such a rush hour.

It was seven thirty and that day, it seemed that the sun was reluctant to set. The sky became a canvas to the sun's tantrums, painted with different colors in a random yet beautiful pattern.

She took to watching the sky, rather than the other rapturing presence next to her. She didn't want to be a masochist anymore. Looking at something that would never be hers.

But if she had bothered to look, she would have seen Sherlock looking at her, completely ignoring what the sun had to do.

/-/-/-/

For those endless dates, which Molly had forced herself to go, she never actually tried.

While dressing she would convince herself that she must look natural and casual. So she would just wear one of her frumpy and cheerful jumpers and some random Khaki pants.

But this date would be different. Tom sounded like a nice guy and she really wanted this to work. It was her last chance to have a family of her own.

So, she dug into the back of her closet to find a dress.

She would have been worried about finding THE black dress, but since that fated Christmas she had thrown that dress out, never wanting to look at it. It was good that way, looking at it might send her into another round of intense crying.

She finally found two three dresses that she had not worn more than once.

After trying them, she discovered that only two of them fit her.

One was the bright yellow one, she had worn for John's wedding and another dark green one brought for a college get together.

She decided on the green dress.

It was a low cut sheath like dress that clung to her figure. It came down till her knees after cinching on her hips.

She curled her hair and let it down, instead of her usual sensible pony tail.

And now the most dreaded part.

Make-up.

After researching most of the glossy fashion magazine and the internet, they all gave the same conclusion. The right amount of make-up put the right way, will transform a troll into a princess.

But this attempt had only embarrassed and devastated her.

All of Sherlock's comments had made her bury the make-up to the very, very, back of her closet.

But now with determination she pulled it out and applied a minimal amount of gloss and mascara.

When she finally looked in the mirror to check her appearance, she found one thing missing.

A smile.

She forced one onto her face.

"Let's do this Hooper. You deserve some happiness."

/-/-/-/

They say that there are multiple universes. That the universe keeps on expanding. That there are many many worlds with life-forms, some more advanced than us. But nobody could really explain the working of it.

Walking into the local cafe that they had agreed to meet, Molly searched for Tom.

Right then, her phone broke into another bird chirp.

Sorry, running late a bit. Be there in five.

-Tom

She decided to take a seat in a corner, overlooking the street.

The waiter poured some water in her glass and she thankfully drank it. She was nervous and it was making her throat dry.

She was looking at a couple walking on the sidewalk when somebody tapped on her shoulder.

When she looked up she realized that the universe was weird indeed.

"Molly Hooper?"

She nodded.

"Hi! I'm Tom. Sorry, I got caught in the traffic a bit."

Tom would have looked like an exact replica of Sherlock except the artist seemed to be a rebel and decided to add his own few changes.

The result a person who almost looked like Sherlock, even the dressing sense was same, but handsome in a different way.

It was like the universe took pity on her for what she had been through. But it couldn't offer her Sherlock Holmes.

It was offering her Tom and she would gladly take it.

"Glad to meet you, Tom" she said with a smile.

 **AN: Liked it? *fingers crossed* Let me know. Constructive criticism will be worshiped. :p**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey there! :) Thank you so much for the reviews and support! They literally made my day. :D Hope you like this.**

Hiss….

Molly breathed in the scent of pancake that she was making and enjoyed the hissing sound it made when she poured the batter into the pan.

She hummed tunelessly as she flipped the pancake.

As she brought the breakfast to her dining table, she looked around her tidy flat. She was taken aback by how much of Tom's stuff had migrated into her flat.

His comic books lay neatly stacked upon her romance novels, his coat hanged next to hers on the rack. If she opened her closet she would find that half of it was filled with his clothes. And then there was his guitar that was propped up on one of the chairs.

Molly giggled at the memory of him singing and trying to woo her. It would have been romantic, if he had been able to sing. They had laughed and in the end he had successfully managed to woo her.

All of a sudden lean and muscular arms hugged her from behind.

"Hmm…someone's in a bright mood this morning" Tom said as he kissed the top of her head.

"I was just thinking about your expertise at singing" Molly said and leaned back into him.

"Then I'm glad I was reason for your smile" he said.

Molly nudged him in the ribs with her elbows.

"Corny" she said and proceeded to set the table.

"Hey! I was trying to be romantic" he said.

She giggled and shook her head.

"Just shut up and eat" she said.

"Yes ma'am".

Molly looked at him as he ate.

He was on the tall and muscular side of the male spectrum. He had dark brown hair, sharp cheekbones and eyes the color of emerald. The former was matted from his sleep and he was currently shirtless. So in short, a vision.

The mousy Molly would have simply lost all hopes by looking at him. No way would someone that good looking want to be with me, would have been her thoughts.

But Molly had suppressed her mousy side and kept a firm hold on the woman in her.

The result: they had been dating successfully for the past three months.

He was a great companion, he made her laugh and most importantly cared for her. She wasn't just a convenience or afterthought for him.

Tom was just the type of guy that any girl would die for.

He sensed her eyes on him and looked up.

"What?" he asked self-consciously.

"You got a bit of honey on your chin" she said with a mischievous grin. "Let me get that for you."

She later noticed that the pancake lay abandoned on his plate, but she wasn't complaining.

/-/-/-/-/

"Hey! Molls. Want some help with those?"

Molly looked from behind the pile of books she was carrying to the lab at the ex-army doctor.

"Hello, John. No thanks, I think I can manage" she said with a smile. "How's Mary and the baby?"

"I insist" he said, ever the gentleman, and took the pile of books from her hand.

"They both are fine. It's me you should be asking about. Mary's cravings are driving me insane" he said with a huff.

But Molly could easily see the love and affection behind those words.

They discussed the pros and cons of the baby names he and Mary had come up with on the way to the lab.

"Oh! And I heard from Mary that you were seeing someone" John said cheerfully as he placed the books on the shelf.

All the years since he had known Molly, he had wished that she would move on. Her crush on Sherlock wasn't a secret and he felt bad that her every attempt was crushed by Sherlock. He had been glad to hear that she had finally come to her senses.

A slight blush colored Molly's cheeks.

"Yes. His name his Tom. He works as a banker" she said.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment before John cursed.

"Sorry. I was supposed to be going to the parental classes with Mary. That was why I was coming up from the morgue. Got to rush. See you around, Molly" he said and swiftly walked out of the lab doors.

Molly smiled at his retreating figure and gathered some equipment before leaving the lab.

She was just a few feet from the morgue doors when her footsteps slowed.

She had never asked John what he was doing in the morgue. Because she usually never did. She always knew.

He had been helping HIM.

Molly came to a complete stop, when she realized that HE must still be in the morgue.

The last time she had seen him was when he had dropped her at her flat after the shopping. He had walked her to her door and Molly had sensed an internal struggle in him. But it had just been her imagination running wild as he simply turned back and left without a word.

Since then she had not seen or heard from him. No pressing texts, no sudden visits to her flat. She hadn't even seen him in Bart's, which was a big thing.

This had turned out to be a good thing for her, as she had found it easy to lock all Sherlock Holmes related thoughts in the very back of her mind and focus on her relationship with Tom.

But now being alone in the morgue with him? She didn't know what to expect.

She would expect nothing. Nothing was going to change. She would greet him, like she always did as a friend and carry on her work. That was what she was going to do. She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

There he was sitting on his favorite stool (though he would never admit it) and was trying to glean everything from the slide that he was observing under the microscope.

He looked up when he heard the door open and focused his impossible eyes on her.

"Hello Sherlock" she said and attempted to smile while settling to the workstation next to his.

Molly was quite proud of herself.

Here she was trying to be friendly where any other woman in her position would most probably throw the beakers she was holding at him.

He didn't say anything. He just continued to deduce her.

She really hoped he wouldn't comment on her current relationship. Obviously he would have deduced it by now, probably from the way she tied her shoe lace.

He had mocked all her attempts at a relationship cruelly. But now that he was in one, she hoped he would be kind.

Apparently the gods were being good to her as he simply nodded to himself and continued his work.

They worked in silence for. Neither looking at the other.

After about an hour she felt her neck begin to ache. A coffee would be good, she thought. She was about to ask Sherlock whether he wanted one, when the door burst open.

"Sherly!" came a cooing voice.

Janine walked straight towards Sherlock, her high heels clacking against the floor, holding two coffee cups.

Well 'Sherly' wouldn't be need coffee then.

He turned towards Janine, so that his back was to Molly.

There was a big centrifugal machine between the two work stations, so it was easy to overlook the person sitting behind it. And she was overlooked.

She knew that she should go. That staying there would definitely not do her good. But like a victim in the horror movie, she sat there frozen.

Janine placed the cups on the table and proceeded to kiss Sherlock.

So, the date must have worked, a part of her brain completely detached from heart, observed.

Sherlock broke the kiss and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Janine" Sherlock said with a warmth that Molly had never heard before.

She felt a searing pain in her heart as if it had been stabbed by a rusted knife.

Molly couldn't take it anymore. She had thought the gods were being good, but no. They were throwing her hopes and wishes right at her face. Tears, began to collect in her eyes.

"Excuse me" she choked out and rushed out. Janine was startled as she hadn't noticed another person.

If Molly saw the love in his eyes for Janine, she would shatter. She almost ran out of the morgue.

But if she had seen his eyes she would have seen that they were empty. She was only one who could read him and that was why Sherlock had hid his face.

/-/-/-/-/

She walked blindly towards the rest room.

She appreciated the fact that it was always empty, nobody came down here. Good. Nobody needed to hear her breaking apart.

She had thought she had moved on. That she was just okay with being friends with Sherlock Holmes.

She was surprised that she could still cry over that man. It seemed impossible.

Yes. She now had Tom.

He was a guy that every girl would die for. That was what she chanted to herself, every day. But she wasn't every girl. She had loved Sherlock was so long that now, she didn't even know how to stop. How she wished the warmth in his voice was directed towards her.

She had been trying to force herself to love Tom. But apparently she had used up all her capacity.

For she didn't have her heart anymore. She had lost to one curly haired detective who had crushed it.

/-/-/-/

Molly didn't go to the morgue after making sure that her outer appearance didn't show what a wreck she was on the inside. She stayed in the lab instead.

When the clock struck five-thirty she gave a relieved sigh and packed her things. She just wanted to go home.

She considered taking a cab but then it somehow reminded her of Sherlock. So she took the tube, as always.

Throughout the journey, she kept hearing the warmth in his voice. She didn't know what she could do to erase the memory of it. She wished she could just delete it. Alas, she wasn't lucky.

She was distracted from her thoughts by a text.

When will you be home?

-Tom

I'm on my way. Probably in twenty minutes.

-Molly

Great! :)

-Tom

Molly smiled at the text. He was so fond of using smileys. He was always cheerful. That was the nice thing about Tom. He was so easy to be with.

Molly reached her flat and hunted for her keys for a while before opening the door.

As she hung her coat on the rack, she noticed that all the lights were turned off. And yet it wasn't dark. She whirled around to see that every possible surface of the flat was covered with candles. A warm orange glow cocooned the flat. Tom who had been sitting on the sofa, stood up. He was wearing a dashing suit and appeared to the nervous.

Molly was surprised.

"What's going on?" she asked as she walked towards him.

He took her hand in his and before she knew what was happening, he was down on his knees.

"Molly, I know we have not been dating for long. But in this short time I've known you, I have been happier than I have been in all my life. I want this happiness to last for a lifetime. You are beautiful and perfect in every way and I want you to be mine as much as I want to be yours. Molly Hooper, Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Molly was shocked. She knew Tom loved her. She could see it in his every action. But she hadn't expected him to propose.

He would have eventually, the logical part of her offered.

She couldn't accept, could she? After all her heart belonged to someone else.

Tom was looking up at her with his eyes full of love as he waited for her answer, unaware of her internal turmoil.

And it was that look that decided her answer. She knew that it was extremely selfish on her part and very unfair on Tom. But she was tired of being selfless. She was tired of being a spectator in her own life. She wanted someone to look at her love and speak with the warmth that came with it.

With tears prickling her eyes she said, "Yes".

 **AN: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think! :D And stay tuned.. ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

"I'll never let go, Jack. I promise" Rose said with a hoarse tone.

Molly felt a familiar feeling of anger well up in her like it usually did. Why the hell did she have to tell him that, when she was definitely going to leave him?

Why?

She grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed her face angrily with it. Toby jumped from the sofa, to play with the fallen bits.

She watched the movie till the end, softening a bit on the part where Jack and Rose meet again in the Titanic. When Pretty Women began to play she paused the TV.

She smiled as she stretched on the sofa. The idea of a movie marathon was amazing.

Tom was on a business trip and it was her day off. Like a real day off. No curly haired detective interrupted her day, for her assistance that very instance. It had been a long time since she simply lazed around doing nothing. It felt like being in college again. She giggled at the memories.

She reached for the glass of wine that was on the coffee table. Right then, the rays of the setting sun caught the ring in her hand.

Molly paused to admire it.

It was a huge rock. It looked extremely beautiful, nestled there in an intricate web of gold threads.

Tom had moved in with her. It was Molly who had suggested it. After all they were going to get married. It seemed natural. Tom had been overjoyed. He had been worried that proposing so early would scare her away. He was pleasantly surprised at her reaction.

She enjoyed his company more than ever. She smiled that all those little things that happened between.

However she was brought out of her reverie by the twitter of her phone.

She groaned.

The phone was in the kitchen and she really didn't want to leave her comfy position. The sofa had accepted her as its own.

With a sigh, she grabbed the wine glass and headed to the kitchen.

It was John.

"Hey! John" she said cheerfully.

"Molly"

The glass which she was holding slipped through her fingers and shattered on the floor as she registered his voice. She had heard the tone before.

It was the same all-consuming pain that had laced John's voice when he had called her to tell that Sherlock Holmes was dead. That he had jumped off the roof despite the fact that John had begged him with all he had.

But at that time, she had barely flinched. That was because the dead man had been lying right in front of her, his unconscious body had been brought in by Mycroft's men.

But this time, fear like no other gripped her in its cold vise.

"Sherlock's been shot" John said choking on his tears.

The words gave her fear the ability to suffocate her and Molly felt her world tilt and collapse.

/-/-/-/-/

Though all she wanted to do was faint and take comfort in being in a place where the reality wouldn't touch her, she held on and forced herself to stay strong.

Her medical training kicking in she felt her head clear a bit.

"Where are you?" she asked John, her voice surprisingly calm.

"We are in the ambulance, on the way to the hospital." It was then that she registered the loud whine of its siren.

"I'm on my way" she said.

She rushed into a jean and blouse, grabbed her coat and was out of her flat under ten seconds.

She flagged down a cab and jumped into it.

"St Bart's. And hurry" she said in a commanding tone. And the cabby obliged.

On reaching the hospital, she immediately went to the reception. Upon seeing her approach, Julian the receptionist, said "Second floor, ICU."

Molly thanked her and ran towards the ICU.

She found John standing next to the glass door, his shoulders hunched. He looked up when he saw her and came forward to engulf her in a hug. The tight grip in which he held her showed how frightened he was.

"How is he?" she asked pulling back, her once calm voice now trembling.

Pain flashed in his eyes.

"Bad. They are preparing him for an operation, the bullet is still inside."

Thank God. If the bullet was still inside then the blood loss wouldn't be fatal. But the chance of him surviving the operation…

'He'll pull through. He always does' she chanted to herself.

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity as Sherlock was wheeled out and taken to the operating theater. The image of him, pale and barely clinging onto life was burned into her memory.

The doors of the room shut silently behind them. Now all they could do was wait.

Sitting idle was making her imagine all worst case scenarios, so she excused herself to get some tea for both of them.

When she came back, she saw John in the same position as she had left him. He was probably thinking of the two years when he had thought Sherlock was dead and was now fearing that life would come back to haunt him.

How she wished that John didn't have medical knowledge. Then it would be easy for her to lie through her teeth that everything was going to be alright. But John knew as much as her that they couldn't promise anything.

She didn't know for how long they sat there, holding the untouched cup of tea. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours.

When the doors opened to reveal the surgeon, who was now unmasking, they walked up to him with equal parts of terror and hope.

"He made it" the surgeon said, sounding a little disbelieving.

"For a few minutes, his heart stopped. But then he pulled through."

Relief. It collided with her with so much force that she was afraid she'll drown in it. She felt all the energy drain out of her and felt herself sway.

"Come here" John held her steadily and seated her in the waiting room.

Only then did she allow herself to succumb to unconsciousness.

/-/-/-/-/

"What happened?"

"We had been on a case, I'm sorry I can't tell you the details" John said apologetically as Molly nodded in understanding. "He was alone for not more than a few minutes when I saw him lying on the floor. I immediately called for an ambulance."

Mary put a comforting arm around him.

They were currently sitting in the waiting room. Sherlock wasn't conscious yet. The Watson's had already visited him. But Molly didn't have it in her to see him pale and helpless again.

John continued.

"I wasn't even thinking straight. But he kept saying your name. That's how I even thought about calling you."

She took in that bit of information but didn't know what to do with it.

Deciding to change the topic she asked "Where's Janine?"

Surely she should have been here the moment she heard the news. She was Sherlock's girlfriend.

Mary looked at them both with confusion.

"Janine?"

John cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.

"Uh…Well... It was all for the case." He then began explaining it to Mary.

What? It was for a case? Why didn't he tell her that when she had asked him? He had hurt her feelings over a case?

She felt the pent up rage with her beginning to eek out. Right then a nurse came to announce that Sherlock Holmes was awake and they could visit him.

She pushed herself to her feet and marched into his room.

However she felt herself deflate and the words die in her mouth as she noticed how fragile he looked. Also what would screaming at him give her?

Instead she took a seat next to his bed. He was barely awake. His eyelids fluttered for a moment before looking at her.

"Idiot" she said.

Sherlock tried to chuckle but ended up wincing.

The room filled with silence. Both wanting to say so much, yet saying nothing. She noticed his eyes were beginning to droop so she stood to leave and let him sleep. As she began to go, she felt his fingers on her hand.

"Thank you, Molly Hooper" he said, his voice feeble and then he drifted into sleep.

She had to rush out of the room as she was afraid her sobs might wake him.

/-/-/-/

Molly didn't visit Sherlock after that. She kept herself busy with work and Tom.

Tom had been extremely sympathetic on hearing that her colleague was shot. He had even tried to cheer her up with more awful guitar singing. It was adorable. Though she tried to avoid it, the talk of the shot consulting detective was hard to ignore.

Sherlock was making steady progress. Except for the spectacular screaming from Janine (a topic of gossip that got more fuel from the articles in the paper) and Sherlock's disappearance from the hospital, and also his constantly nagging the nurse to let him go, everything seemed to be okay.

Molly was doing her paperwork when her phone buzzed. Thinking it was Tom, sending one of his random 'I love you' messages she reached for it.

She was wrong.

Need to talk. Come at once.

-SH

(Please come)

She didn't want to go. She shouldn't go. But he was using please, so it must be important. She warred internally. Finally, that please did it for her. With a sigh, she removed her lab coat and took the elevator.

They had transferred him from ICU to special ward. She found him reclining on the bed his gaze miles away. However when she entered, his gaze focused on her. She noted that the sharpness of his eyes had returned. It made her happy. Silently she took the seat next to the bed.

He didn't say anything, just continued to look at her.

It was Molly who spoke first.

"Why?" she asked, trying and failing to hide the pain in her voice.

He didn't need any explanations. He knew what she was asking. His eyes tightened in response.

"Right from the beginning I have known about your feelings towards me" he said after a long time.

"You see, I have a reputation for hurting those who love me. John can vouch for that. I had never outright rejected you. I couldn't. I took comfort in the possibility of us. That I could be with you if I wanted" he smiled for a moment.

"However the Moriarty business was a cruel eye opener of how those I care about, those I…love are always in danger. You deserve so much more than me. So I took the opportunity of this case to somehow force you to hate me. To make you believe that I loved somebody else. Even if such a notion is impossible."

"I had thought that I was doing the right thing. But I am a selfish bastard. I can't stand the thought of being without you. Even now when I see that you have moved on" he said eyeing her engagement ring, "I want nothing but to have that possibility again. Even though I cannot be the man you want, I want you. I…"

By this time, tears were silently pouring down her cheeks.

"I need you, Molly."

How she had wished he would say those words to her. Had literally dreamed about this happening. Even though she wanted nothing but to surrender to his words, all those endless nights crying herself to sleep came up to her. All the hurt that she had endured. So much hurt.

And then Tom's face.

She would never be able to love anyone. Her heart belonged to this man. But then there was another who would never do anything to hurt her. Whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to make her happy. What was she to do?

"I love you too, Sherlock. I always have and always will. But I don't think that alone is enough, anymore."

She stood up and left the room in a hurry. It was then she understood the meaning behind Rose's words. She would never be able to let go of him. But for her own good she needed to move on.

/-/-/-/-/

A few days later when Sherlock woke up from his fitful sleep in the hospital, he found a card placed on the seat next to his bed.

Goodbye, Sherlock.

It was unsigned. But the loopy handwriting was unmistakable.

He knew that his possibility would never exist anymore.

AN: This could be the end. :-P But I'm not that cruel. I think. LOL! :-D


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Hello! I'm continuing. :p Your reviews, favorites and follows is the reason why I write. :) Hope you like this. Enjoy! :D

Molly groaned.

She seriously didn't understand why her ringtone was a cheerful bird song. Sure it was nice to hear during the day but it definitely was not nice when you were trying to get some much needed sleep.

The mocking bird continued to whistle happily and she blindly reached for the source on her bedside table, nearly knocking it down in the process.

"Hello" she said without looking at the caller ID, her voice layered with a million layers of tiredness.

"Molly! You finally picked up" a voice said shrilly.

Molly's eyes flew open and she suppressed another groan emanating from her mouth. It was her sister Lily on the phone.

She had been avoiding this phone call for the past couple of weeks, never picking up or in extreme cases, just switching off her phone.

"I've been trying to get a hold on you for weeks!" her sister was saying as she cursed herself internally.

You see, her little sister had just had a baby girl. That wasn't the problem. She was supposed to be the godmother. That also wasn't the problem. The problem was the fact that Lily now lived in London.

Seriously, it was all her rotten luck.

A month after Molly moved out of London, her sister's family moved there.

She hadn't given much thought about it at that time. But one day as she was weighing the heart of a poor soul she received a text from her sister's husband, Josh, announcing the birth of his daughter. From then on, she knew that she was in trouble.

"When are you visiting us?" Lily asked, directly going for the kill.

"Um…"

She racked her mind for a good excuse.

"Molly Hooper, don't you dare try and get out of this. You are the godmother of my daughter and I would really like her to meet you as soon as possible."

Molly was amazed at how much her sister sounded like their mom when she yelled.

"And also I would like to see you too. I miss you" Lily added softly.

She immediately began to feel guilty. Molly loved her sister to pieces. This was family and she shouldn't let her fears get in the way.

"I'll be there tomorrow" she said with a sigh.

"That's good to hear. I'll tell Josh to pick you up from the station. Bye!"

"Bye!" Molly called out and cut the call.

She took in a deep breath. She was going to London. After three years.

She might meet the famous curly haired detective and she didn't know how she felt about that.

/-/-/-/-/-/

Molly looked up from the book she was reading as the train began to slow. The scenery which had been whizzing past, came into sharp focus.

Summer was in full swing in England and she was glad for it. There was bright color everywhere under the blue sky.

She read the name of the station. Reading.

She remembered coming here with Tom when they had been to visit Molly's mother. A little out of the way trip.

Sigh.

So much had changed.

Memories flooded her mind.

After Sherlock's confession, Molly was faced with one of the most difficult decisions of her life. Sherlock or Tom.

But there was never any choice, was there?

She finally had the courage to look at her relationship with Tom through honest eyes. All she saw was a guy who was trying his best for someone who didn't deserve him one bit. He was a fantastic person and she was, for very selfish reasons, stringing him along. That time she had this vision. Of them old and grey together. But there wasn't any happiness. His eyes bitter and hers full of guilt.

There were people out there, who cared about nothing else but their own happiness. Unfortunately, she wasn't one of them.

That very evening when he came back from work, she silently placed the ring on the coffee table. Tears were streaming down her eyes. The simple act of removing the ring, showed that she was throwing away her one chance at a family. But it wasn't fair on Tom. He deserved so much more.

He had looked at her in shock. Molly had expected him to yell, to ask for an explanation. But he just stood there.

"Guess, I knew it all along" he said, finally.

And that made her cry even harder.

When he moved out, she had been incapable of leaving the sanctuary of her bed.

Then she thought about Sherlock. Of what he had said to her and what she wanted to do about it. Her heart told her to go to him. Isn't that what she wanted?

But then an insecure part of her reared its ugly head.

 _He needs you now but what about after? Like with so many other things, he is going to get bored of you and leave you._

 _He said you counted. What happened after that? ,_ it asked.

Nothing. Nothing, she screamed internally.

Her heart had been hurt by Sherlock so many times that she had been afraid to give it to him.

Suddenly all of it had become too much. The emptiness in her flat, the emptiness in her heart. She had decided to take up a job elsewhere. Somewhere, where she wouldn't be reminded of her empty life.

And with a final goodbye to Sherlock, she had left.

She shook her head to clear the memories. The train began to gather speed as it left the station. In a short while she would at her sister's place.

She went back to her book, habitually ignoring the heartache.

/-/-/-/-/

"Oh! My God! Look at you" Molly cooed at her niece.

She was such a beautiful baby. She had warm brown eyes, a cute little nose and such pink lips. And she was so tiny.

"She will be a beauty" she called to her sister as she held the baby.

Lily, who had been making coffee for Molly smiled brightly. "I know" she said proudly.

Hazel Marianne Wilson, gurgled happily as her godmother tickled her. Molly was touched that they had given the baby her middle name. She had been very surprised but it warmed her to know that she wasn't entirely alone in this world.

Placing the now sleeping baby in her crib, she went to the kitchen to help her sister. After picking her up from the station, Josh had gone back to work.

They talked about their mother, their relatives and many more. After coming to London, Molly had kept in touch with her sister through phone and email. Her work had kept her busy, barely letting her attend compulsory events like marriages let alone social visits. She had thought there might be some awkwardness when they met in person, but it wasn't anything like that. In fact, it was as if all these years away had melted and they were in their mother's home, gossiping.

They were in the middle of roasting their hometown's prom queen, when the clock chimed twelve.

"Oh! I better go" her sister said, untying the apron. "Have to get George from the play school."

However as Lily reached the door, Hazel began to cry loudly. She had a look of indecision upon her face.

"I'll go get him" Molly offered as Lily came to soothe her wailing daughter.

"But Molly, you just arrived" she protested.

"It's nothing. Give me the address" she said, already reaching for the door.

After getting the address from Lily, Molly hailed a cab.

As the taxi wove through the traffic, she took in the sight of her London. Yes, her London. She hadn't realized how much she would miss this place.

Once reaching the play school, which was crowded by parents, she flashed the identity card her sister had given her to the security. Lily had already called in advance that she would be coming to get her nephew.

The moment he saw his aunt, George's face lit up. She grinned and picked him up.

"Hey! Georgie" she said.

"Auntie Molly!" he said squirming with excitement.

She had met him only twice. And in those two occasions they had formed a very strong bond. He becoming her favorite nephew and she his favorite aunt.

She let him get down after hugging him. He immediately took hold of her hands and began to tell her all about his toys as they headed out.

Molly listened to him intently with a smile.

When they reached the exit, something caught her periphery vision making her stop.

There standing in the parking lot was a tall, coat adorned figure with impossible curly hair. It was quite far away, but Molly was sure it was him. Nobody would wear a coat in such warm weather other than Sherlock Holmes.

The sight of him, made her dormant heart beat faster. Once she left she made sure that she wasn't in contact with anyone from London. Sherlock's face had been printed on the front page of newspapers many a times, praising him for solving extremely difficult cases. But she refused to read them. Though all she wanted to do was that.

She could feel George tugging at her hand. But she couldn't move.

Frozen, she watched a little girl run towards Sherlock's outstretched arms. He scooped her up, making the girl giggle. Following the girl was a beautiful woman. She was willowy, wearing extremely expensive clothes and bright red lipstick. She walked up to them with a smile. They stood there for a moment playing with the girl. Then together, they got into a car and left.

It seemed that Sherlock Holmes had moved on.

AN: Has he? :O What do you think?

I swear this was going to be the last chapter, full of fluff but some how the story refuses to end.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hello! :) Your support makes me go wheeee! :D Hope you like this.**

Mary found herself in one of those rare good moods.

She was cheery with apparently no reason. She hummed as she tidied the kitchen along with her darling husband.

Mary observed him as he tried his best to scrub a particularly stubborn stain on the stove.

Even after three years she couldn't believe that he was here. That they were together.

At one point she had been terrified that her past had caught up with her and she would lose him and everything that she had tried to build for herself. But then it was suddenly just a nightmare. A reminder that made her appreciate what she had.

Sensing her eyes on him, John looked up.

"What?" he asked, brushing away the sweat that had formed on his eyebrow.

"Using a bit of soap can be helpful" she said with a laugh. As usual he had forgotten the soap.

"Drat!"

He was about to get the soap, when there was a knock on the front door.

"Oh! That must be Katherine. I'll get it."

John rushed to the door to reveal a young woman carrying an adorable little girl.

"Daddy!" the little girl squealed and leaned towards John.

John took the girl from Katherine and tickled the child whose tinkling laughter filled the room.

Mary smiled fondly and wiped her hands on the tea towel to join them in the living room.

"Where's Sherlock?" she asked.

"Mr. Holmes got down at Baker's St. He said that he has some urgent work to do."

"Oh! He finished up his latest case just yesterday. Maybe it's one of his awful experiments" John offered.

"Okay then. I'll take my leave, Mrs. Watson. I'll be here tomorrow at nine."

"Won't you stay for tea?" Mary asked her.

"Thank you but I can't. I have to submit a report to Mr. Mycroft Holmes. Goodbye."

"It's been almost two years and yet she refuses to call me Mary" she said, as she saw Katherine exit.

"I've given up on that" John said and gave the now napping Elizabeth to Mary who took her to the nursery.

When Elizabeth was born they had naturally made Sherlock her godfather. Though he had put on a show of being burdened with unnecessary work, it was anybody's guess that he was delighted. He loved Elizabeth and had taken his godfather's duty quite seriously.

After a year of her birth, Mary had decided to get back to her job as a nurse. They had been talking about day cares when Sherlock had told them to leave that task to him.

Katherine was the result. She had a degree in advanced child care, a degree in child rearing and also basic skills of a pediatrician. Mary also had her suspicions that Katherine knew a few martial arts. She was what one would loosely term as nanny. She was chosen by Mycroft who had also taken quite a liking towards the Watson's newest family member.

They were about to resume their cleaning when John's phone buzzed with a text.

It was from Greg.

 _Guess who's in town? ,_ it read along with a picture of him and Molly who was holding a small boy.

John immediately called him.

"Hello, John."

"Molly's here?" he asked, incredulously.

Mary's ears perked up. _Molly?_

Molly Hooper had all but disappeared suddenly from London. She had just resigned from her post in Bart's and had taken up another position somewhere else, without even saying goodbye to anybody. She remembered just how crushed Sherlock had looked that day. Instantly she had known that he loved her.

She listened further to the conversation.

"Yes. She was with her nephew, on their way home. It was pure luck that I was in that area."

"We should definitely meet up" John said, excited at the thought of meeting an old friend.

"Great. She's leaving in two days, so dinner tomorrow?" Greg asked.

"Sounds good. I'll inform Mike."

"And it's my responsibility to bring Molly" Greg said.

After inquiring about Elizabeth and Mary, they hung up.

John relayed what Greg had said to Mary and showed her the picture he had sent.

She scrutinized the picture, particularly noticing the lack of ring on Molly's hand.

"Yes. A meet up is in order" she said with a sly smile. "Call Greg."

/-/-/-/-/-/

"Hello Mrs. Hudson" John said greeting the landlady.

"Oh! Hello, John" she said. "It's been so long. You should visit more often."

"I was here only last week" he said with a smile and headed up the stairs to meet his ex-flat mate.

He could hear Sherlock playing his violin and it appeared to be a very, very sad tune.

John went directly to the kitchen, trying to ignore the mess on the table, and began to prepare tea. Sherlock noted his presence but continued playing.

By the time the last note hung in the air, John was in his chair sipping his tea. After placing his violin in its case, Sherlock flung himself on the sofa his back towards John.

"Why didn't you come along with Katherine?" John asked.

"I had work to do" came the muffled response.

"You just finished the case and I don't see any experiment on the table" he said.

"Excellent observational skills John. Clearly my brilliance has rubbed off on you."

John rolled his eyes. "That doesn't answer my question."

Sherlock got up with a huff and assumed his famous pose. "I'm going into my mind palace" he said and closed his eyes.

John knew it was one of his avoidance technique. He simply picked up the newspaper and began to go through it. Sherlock would talk eventually.

It didn't take very long. A minute had passed by before Sherlock spoke.

"Fine. Since you're bothering me so much, I'll tell you" John tried to suppress his smirk.

"I… I saw Molly Hopper today. She was with her child."

This was news. So Sherlock also had seen Molly. However he was shocked that Sherlock thought it was her kid. It helped his response sound more natural.

"Yeah?"

But Sherlock hadn't heard him. He was lost in his thoughts.

When he had left the play school along with Elizabeth he had caught a fleeting glimpse of her through the car window. He knew for sure it was her. How could he forget?

 _Why was she in London? Was she married to Tom? Was that his child?_

After she had left three years ago, it took all of Sherlock's control to not trace her, to not keep track of her movements. As a result he didn't know where she had been or what she had been doing. And now that she was here, the restricted area in his mind palace, whose doors had been chained and locked, rattled.

He was brought back to reality when he heard John calling his name.

"Sherlock? Sherlock?"

He looked at John.

"It's good to know, Molly's here. I actually came to tell you that it's Greg's birthday tomorrow. He has invited us for dinner tomorrow at The Meridian."

Sherlock was preoccupied yet he answered.

"I'm busy tomorrow."

"He also said that if you didn't come, he will not involve you in any case, results be damned."

Sherlock considered the threat. A few hours of social torture was better than a few weeks of mind numbing boredom.

"I'll be there" he said and continued to pursue his thoughts.

John hid a huge grin behind the newspaper.

 **AN: Let me know what you think! :) It's always a pleasure to go through your feedback. :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks a lot for the support and for sticking around. Means a lot! :D Cheers! :)**

Molly looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed.

She wasn't supposed to have run in to Greg. Wasn't supposed to have exchanged numbers. And definitely wasn't supposed to be all dolled up and ready to go for the party.

As it was she was barely trying to be happy and content with her new life. There wasn't anything to complain about her new life. But she was a creature of habit. And she terribly missed London.

As she had stood there on the pavement, frozen upon seeing Sherlock, she had felt two different feelings all at once.

Freedom. The knowledge that he had found someone and was happy made her soul feel lighter than it had over the past three years. Leaving him was the hardest decision she had ever made in her life. And she had been guilt ridden all this time. But the way he smiled at his child freed her.

And then a feeling that she couldn't describe. She had felt hurt, sadness, pain and so much more throughout her life in various degrees. But this feeling… It was as if the combination of all the three engulfed her heart in such a tsunamic force that she literally wanted to rip her heart out to not feel it.

Tiny fingers had tugged at her coat and Molly looked at the innocent and confused face of her nephew.

"Aunty Molly? Are you all right?" he asked.

She wanted to scream no and sob until her very being disintegrated.

Instead she said, "Yes, Georgie. Let's go."

They had to cross the road before she could hail a taxi. She was about to do so when she heard a familiar voice, call out her name.

"Molly?"

She turned around to find Greg coming towards her with a surprised yet happy expression.

She was equally surprised. He hugged her.

"It's so great to see you" he said.

"It's good to see you too, Greg" she said and found that it was true. She hadn't realized the extent up to which she missed her friends.

"And who is this young man?" he asked, smiling down at the boy clutching Molly's hand.

"Oh! This is my nephew, George. Say hello to Uncle Greg, Georgie" she said.

"Hello" George said shyly.

They had chatted for a bit and Greg had insisted that they take a picture with him.

"Bart's is really missing you" he said, after taking the picture. "And so are we."

She simply nodded, not knowing what to say. She missed it terribly too. And now that she was here, the lure was getting impossible to ignore.

 _Why not?_ A side of her asked. _The reason for your leaving doesn't stand anymore. He has moved on._

Too confused and emotionally unstable she had decided to think about it some other time.

Later that day she found herself lying on the bed in the guestroom, contemplating her life choices.

Three years ago, leaving London seemed like the only option. She had refused to even think about it later. Her life here had been filled with nothing but pain. But now that she took a closer look she realized her decision for what it was. She had just run away from the problem, rather than facing it. Sherlock's sudden reciprocation, combined with the mess that was the engagement with Tom had been too much for her to bear. She had fled.

But what if she had stayed? What if she had been brave enough to give her heart over to Sherlock one last time? What if…?

However that line of thinking was useless, for he had moved on.

Could she work with him again without resenting his happiness?

It had long become clear for Molly that there wouldn't be any other man in her life than Sherlock. No matter how much she denied it. She loved him too much and didn't know how to stop. She would never be able to move on.

But that didn't mean that she should hide anymore did it? She could be back in London. Bart's was more than willing to accept her with open arms, if she went by what Greg had told her. Seeing Sherlock would bring back the awful feeling which she was experiencing but that had to fade away with time.

She lay there mulling over the questions but couldn't decide anything. After giving up she had gone to play with her goddaughter.

It was in the middle of a peek-a-boo game that Molly received a call from Greg. He invited her for this small party he was throwing for his birthday.

It was only after agreeing and hanging up that she realized that she had decided.

As she put on her earrings she agreed that yes, all this was not supposed to happen but she was glad she it did.

/-/-/-/-/-/

All Sherlock wanted to do was continue with his experiment but Gavin's threat made him stop prodding the liver with a sigh.

He didn't want to go this no doubt boring social gathering. He also didn't want to think about Molly. But he wasn't having any success with either.

Sherlock wasn't good with feelings and emotions. It was anybody's guess. Despite it all, he had confessed about his feelings to Molly only for her to leave him. He wouldn't admit it to anybody, not even to himself, but it had hurt a lot. More than any form of torture he had endured at the hands of his enemies.

Humans had this expression, 'Time will heal'. He had hoped that his pain would also heal. But it turned out it doesn't, you just got used to it. And then, seeing her again with her child had made the scar in his heart bleed afresh. He wanted to talk to her. To scream at her. To hold her.

But she had moved on. And he hadn't. Many people, including John had assumed that he loved the Woman. Irene Adler. They were mistaken. All he felt for her was respect and if he was feeling kind, pity.

The only woman in his life would always be Molly Hooper. The only one that his heart was capable of loving.

Sighing he opened his wardrobe to pick out a suit. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to wear the purple shirt.

He hailed a cab and asked it to drop him a few blocks away from the hotel. The London air was crisp and fresh. He wanted to take a walk to clear his mind.

Usually he would indulge in his favorite pastime: deducing strangers. However that day his mind decided to slideshow his memories of Molly. He had resisted the urge to open her door in his mind palace. But once it was done, memories flooded his brain. He was surprised at the amount of insignificant details he had accumulated. The color of her hair when the light hit in a particular angle, the degree of the curve of her smile, the rate at which the blush would travel through her face and so much more.

Though Sherlock was occupied, he was well aware of his surroundings. He was only a few meters from the hotel entrance. Also the pedestrian coming from the opposite direction, who he didn't bother looking at, was busy typing on their phone and would trip by the slightly upturned stone on the pavement if they continued to pay attention to their phone. The projectile of the fall would make them fall on him. He decided that he would step aside at that moment and continued to go through the information he had unconsciously collected on Molly, completely ignoring the pedestrian. Currently it was the diameter of Molly's pupil which dilated when she looked at him.

As he had calculated, the pedestrian tripped and began to fall. Just when he was about to step aside a whiff of their perfume registered and he caught the person just before they hit the ground, by reflex.

The pedestrian was a bit disoriented and it took some time for her dark brown eyes to focus on the impossible eyes which belonged to her savior.

"Sherlock?"

"Molly?"

They whispered in shock at the same time.

 **AN: Hey there! I'm really sorry to those readers who liked the angst plot but not the sudden fluff. Again, sorry for disappointing you. Hope this chapter was good. Oh! I almost forgot (not really :p) Review! :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Thank you for your support! :D Enjoy!**

" _Molly?"_

" _Sherlock?"_

They both were frozen on the pavement. Sherlock was the first to recover.

He straightened them up, but didn't let go of her. Molly who was now considerably coherent stepped away from him, a blush lighting up her face.

As they stood there awkwardly, facing each other, he took the opportunity to deduce her.

The moment he gathered all the information, his usually dormant and ignored heart soared.

She wasn't married and most importantly she hadn't mothered the child he had seen that day. In fact, she hadn't mothered any children at all.

He smiled widely at the revelation.

When she had left abruptly, he had kept replaying that last encounter again and again. He had made it clear that he had feelings for her. But still she had left. At last he had found his mistake. He had said he needed her. He hadn't used the L word. He had been reeling with so much emotional trauma at that time and he wasn't ready to use the L word yet. But the time he had spent apart from her had made him realize that yes, he loved the tiny pathologist. It didn't matter that she left, his feelings never changed. And she had been right. Needing her wasn't enough. But loving her was. He would make sure to use this second opportunity and prove that to her.

Molly, for her part, wasn't as gifted as Sherlock to deduce his life from one look. Unfortunately she still seemed to think that he was married.

It was her plan to first get slowly acclimatized with London, her friends and when she was ready, to see Sherlock. But then here he was entering quite suddenly into her life. Frankly she didn't even think that he would attend the party. If she remembered correctly (and she did) he thought of them as 'silly social gatherings', basically a waste of time.

She looked up to see that he was smiling at her. Not that calculated stretch of his lips but a genuine smile. Her heart clenched. Now that he was here, why not begin now. She would have to get used to his presence if she wanted her life back.

Putting up a brave face, she tried to smile.

"Hello, Sherlock" she said.

"Molly" he said with a nod, acknowledging her presence. "Shall we?" he asked, motioning towards the hotel.

"Yes."

She took a few calming breathes as they entered the hotel.

' _Where is his family?'_ she wondered. The party hall was on the top floor. A short fleet of stairs led them there. The first thing that she noticed was that there were quite a lot of people in attendance. She knew that Greg was friendly but she didn't know that he would have so many friends. The party was already in full swing. The latest hits blared from a speaker and the bar was overflowing with drinks. She wondered whether they were at the wrong place when they spotted the group of their friends.

Mary's eyes lit up when she saw Sherlock and Molly together.

Molly was immediately hugged by everybody present there. Greg, John, Mary and even Greg's wife.

"It's so good to see you!" Mary cooed.

Molly nodded with a smile.

Sherlock for his part looked around in disdain.

"Oh! Loosen up, Sherlock" John said with a grin. Sherlock just scoffed at him and began to deduce everybody around him. It was either that or stare at Molly in that lovely ice blue dress.

"Come on! Let's get you a drink" John said shouting over the noise and proceeded to drag Sherlock towards the bar.

They watched them go.

"Um…your baby?" Molly asked Mary, curious to know about her child, but also guilty that she hadn't even bothered to call her in the past three years.

"Oh! Yes. It was a girl. We named her Elizabeth, after John's mother" Mary said with a kind smile. Molly instantly knew that she was forgiven.

Greg and his wife left after a few minutes to greet the other guests. They were in the process of catching up with each other when John and Sherlock returned with the drinks.

"Here you go" John said handing the ladies their drinks. Molly was surprised to find that it was her favorite beer.

"Thank you, John."

They sipped their drinks and looked on as some space was cleared to create a 'dance floor'. Instantly the space was filled up with dancers. Mary nudged John, who cleared his throat.

"Dance with me?" he asked her, being the perfect gentleman.

"Thought you'd never ask" she said with a giggle and they were off.

Molly felt really uncomfortable standing next to Sherlock, without the buffer of their friends.

It was becoming quite difficult to not stare at him. Somehow he had lost his coat and scarf. He was wearing that blasted purple shirt! With the top few buttons open!

Also the urge to make small talk was getting stronger. She knew he hated small talk but before she could stop herself she was blabbing.

"How's the family?" she blurted.

Sherlock was surprised that she was talking to him. But he was glad.

"My parents are fine. Attending some opera or the other. As for Mycroft," he wasn't able to say the name without sneering, "as long as there is cake, he is happy."

Molly giggled at that. She waited for him to continue, looking at him expectantly but he wasn't forthcoming.

' _Shut up, Molly!'_ a part of her warned. But she was speaking.

"What about your wife and kids?" she asked nonchalantly. Well as nonchalantly as she could.

He looked at her incredulously. In answer he simply held up his ring finger which was empty.

Molly had of course noticed it. In fact it was the first thing she looked for after seeing him. She hadn't let her hopes get high, she remembered the scene at the play school with brutal clarity.

She knew that Sherlock was not a believer in marriages. So she had assumed that there would be some other arrangement.

She was still looking at him with confusion.

"I am not married, Molly" he said with a sigh.

"But the kid?" she asked weakly, cursing her heart that had let a sliver of hope sneak in.

It all became clear for Sherlock. It wasn't only him who had jumped to conclusions. He chuckled at the realization.

"That was the Watsons' daughter and her caretaker" he said.

Molly's heart was suddenly flooded with relief and hope. She felt dizzy for a moment.

"So you are…?" she asked hesitantly.

"Unattached" he said with a cheeky smile, the crinkled type, and a wink.

Molly blushed.

His expression suddenly became serious.

"Molly the last time we spoke, I forgot to mention something."

Her mind flashed back to that day, him laying weak in the hospital bed. Laying his feelings bare for her.

"Yes, Sherlock. About that" she started to apologize but he cut her off.

"I should have told that I love you, not need you" he said, looking straight into her eyes.

She gaped, making her look like a fish. Like a gold fish, his gold fish.

Then her face broke into a huge smile.

"I love you too!" she said and hurled herself at him. They kissed passionately, the kiss healing the pain in their hearts, making them whole once again. They separated after a few minutes, only because the need for oxygen became too much.

"Miss Hooper" his deep baritone becoming impossibly deeper, "care to dance?"

Molly took his outstretched hands immediately.

"I'd love too."

As the couple danced together, lost to the world, John handed a hundred dollar bill to a smug Mary.

"Told you so" she said with a grin.

 **AN: So…That's it. The END :] I enjoyed writing this story, hope you enjoyed reading it. ;)**


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